Triumvirate
by Tippet
Summary: Arata moves to Tokyo. A story told in three parts.


The weatherman proclaims that this is the longest, most severe heat wave that Japan has seen in the last three decades. The cicadas outside sing at top volume, shrill and discordant even in the unrelenting humidity of Tokyo. When Chihaya's home telephone rings, it takes every ounce of self-control she has to hold back a wail of lament at being forced to move in this heat. Chihaya's legs slick against the floor as she unsticks herself from the wood, and she wonders wryly if there is such a thing as drowning in humidity.

She manages to pluck the telephone on its fourth ring. "Ayase household," she sighs.

"Chihaya," Arata says, voice pooling into the handset of Chihaya's phone. Chihaya grips the phone with both hands, feeling as though she has been plunged into a current of cool water. It is the first time she has spoken to Arata since he won the Meijin qualifiers two weeks ago. She doesn't remember what they had said to each other afterward—the only memory of that night is Arata's eyes, burning like embers as they always did after a victory.

"Chihaya?" Arata repeats, and Chihaya gives a start.

"Ah, I'm here," she says quickly, wiping her hands on her skirt and moving the phone to her other ear.

There is a long pause. "This is Arata," he says a little uncertainly, and Chihaya can feel her cheeks go warm.

"I know," she blurts before she can help herself. She is offended—did he think she would not recognize his voice?

Arata gives a breath of laughter. "Sorry," he says. "Just wanted to make sure."

"Chihaya," he continues when she says nothing. "I'm in Tokyo."

At this, Chihaya goes cold.

"What?" she says. It is the only thing she can think to say.

"I'm here," says Arata. "My parents have been transferred here for work, and I wanted to finish high school in the city. There are tournaments here, and my parents and I thought it would be a good opportunity…"

The rest of Arata's explanation goes unheard to Chihaya. _I'm here_, she plays over in her head. Arata is here, in Tokyo. Here, with Chihaya and Taichi after all these years. Immediately, Chihaya is brought back to her first karuta match in Arata's old home. The room had been dark, but Arata's hands had glittered like stars as they caught the sunlight in their quick movements. That had been the day that Arata had given her the Impassionate Gods card, her greatest and most faithful weapon. After thousands of games, she can still count the number of times she has lost that card—her card—on one hand. After all, it had been Arata's first gift to her.

"Chihaya?" Arata says. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," Chihaya says, voice too high. "Where are you right now?"

She is impatient; she has been waiting for this for too many years.

"Right now?" Arata says, startled. "I'm at our new house. We haven't finished unpacking."

"Message me your address," Chihaya says. "Now, okay?"

Then, she hangs up the phone before Arata can refuse. She lowers her hands into her lap, shaking. Suddenly, the heat does not feel so oppressive. She stands up, paces around the living room, sits back down again. She imagines her blood coursing through her veins, impatient and hot.

Before long, she finds herself back on the tatami mat and distractedly places karuta cards down, trying to keep her hands from trembling. The Chihaya card is brighter than usual today, redder than she can remember ever seeing it. Her shoulders are drawn high, and she can feel herself curling inward with a sudden, dangerous joy. _Bad form_, she chastises herself absently. _What would Kana-chan say?_

When she looks down, the formation is all wrong. She gathers the cards again and sits quietly, thrumming with unbridled excitement. The moment her cell phone jingles from her room upstairs, Chihaya is up like a bullet, scattering the cards over the tatami mat. She hurtles up the stairs and into her room, scrabbling for her phone on the desk before throwing herself on her bed.

The text message is simple:

_6-4-3 Ginza Shibuya-ku, Tokyo  
-Arata_

Chihaya goes over the numbers in her head, over and over again until she can see them in the backs of her eyelids when she blinks. The room abruptly grows warmer than before, and Chihaya restlessly pulls her hair out of her face into a high ponytail.

"Arata is in Tokyo," she says out loud, voice wavering like an unsteady kite string. The words disappear into the air, and suddenly Chihaya feels as though she is drowning in her love of karuta. She doesn't remember when she first began associating Arata with karuta—they are one and the same, to Chihaya. It has always been this way, she thinks. As Chihaya is wondering if Arata sees her in the same light, a small idea bubbles to the edges of her thoughts:

She is ready to face Arata.

The realization comes to her slowly at first, and then in a great rush that knocks the breath from her lungs. She has improved; there is no weakness in her play.

No, she cannot say that. There are shortcomings still in her game, but she has grown in her own skin and laid down her heart in her karuta. Over time, she has fully embraced her own play and in doing so, has become the master of it. There is new vigor in the speed of her swing, new strength that was not present before. If Arata is the storm, then she is the calm before it. Wildly, she thinks that Arata has moved to Tokyo to match his karuta against hers.

She picks up the phone, fingers dialing numbers long since memorized before she realizes what she is doing.

"Taichi," tumbles out of her mouth. "Arata is home."

She can hear his surprise over the crackling of the silence.

"In Tokyo?" Taichi asks, in a way that says he already knows the answer.

There is a slant in Taichi's voice, a note of unguarded pleasure that Chihaya knows he reserves for her and Arata alone. Chihaya closes her eyes, tightening her fingers around the phone. Taichi has also been waiting for Arata's return. Taichi wants to face him too, she thinks.

"Yes," she says. "I'll message you the address."

After they hang up, Chihaya curls her hands into fists and gets up. Stomach knotted in anticipation, she goes downstairs to clean up the karuta cards she had upturned earlier. Her fingers are practiced and calm even if she isn't, and every card gets placed into her wooden karuta box, inlaid with hibiscus flowers—a gift from Harada-sensei. As she sits, Chihaya tries to figure out what she will say to Arata and wonders if it would be rude to demand a game from him so soon. Would he take it the wrong way? Was it tactless to barge into someone's home even before they had completely moved in? Should she bring him a housewarming present?

Taichi would know what to say to Arata, she thinks hopelessly. Taichi would know what to do.

It is a long time before she snaps the lid shut on the karuta box. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She does not let herself get up until she has completely mastered herself.

Then, Chihaya slips the box of karuta cards into her pocket and pulls on a pair of her luckiest socks. She laces up her shoes and grabs a bag of apples from the kitchen to give Arata. When she walks outside, the glare of the sun greets her and she feels the beat of her heart, fast and eager.

_It's time_, she thinks.

* * *

Next installment will be Taichi's perspective! Comments and crit are always welcome.


End file.
